Friday, June 8, 2012

An Overnight Interlude

It must have been with great relief that the struggling threesome—Bishop Baraga, assisted in his weak state by Father Jacker and the soon-to-be-ordained
Patrick Flannigan—arrived at the end of their journey during near-winter
conditions in the Upper Peninsula. All told, the Bishop’s journey entailed a
multi-staged itinerary covering just over three hundred miles. All this, of
course, could not have been completed without several overnight stays.

After the Bishop met up with Father Jacker and Patrick
Flannigan in Hancock, and embarked by foot from there,

Exhausted, the trio
arrived at the half-way house at ten o’clock at night. From this point the
country being more level, the walking was much better; they reached Maple Grove, Flannigan’s
home, at five o’clock next day. The following morning after celebrating Mass,
the last seven of the forty miles were made with as much leisure as possible.
Minesota Mine was reached at eleven o’clock.

One would think that the Bishop would have gratefully seen
this as the end of his travels, but that was not the case. He intended to
continue to yet another destination:

The happy completion
of the journey could not but imbue the venerable Bishop with new strength.
After a few hours rest he drove unaccompanied to Ontonagon and stayed over
night in the house of Mr. Schick….

Minesota Mine—the location near Rockland which was to be the site of the
upcoming ordination—was the domain of Father Martin Fox, who would most
willingly have received his three guests—if
his humble home would have permitted such hospitality.

That our readers might
not wonder why the Bishop did not remain as the guest of Father Fox, we must
add, in explanation, that the rectory was so small and contained but one bed
and that on this occasion there were four persons having legal claim to it.

Until the night preceding the actual ceremony, the Bishop
was satisfied to seek rest in that nearby location which more conveniently
could accommodate him. He returned to the Minesota Mine on that Saturday,
November 15, 1862, and the notes for that evening’s repose—for there was little
sleep—demonstrate how humble, indeed, the parish pastor’s residence actually
was.

This night the Bishop’s
presence precluded all contests for the only bedstead. Father Jacker, as the
next guest in honor, took possession of an old lounge, Father Fox settled for
the night on the bare floor, unfortunately selecting the door leading to the Episcopal
bedroom for a pillow and was early in the morning, at three o’clock, when the
Bishop opened his door, unceremoniously disturbed in his slumbers. The
neo-ordinandus lodged at the neighbors and the student Frederick Eis…did not
sleep at all, or if he did, he stole his sleep under the trees in the
graveyard. But we reckon and are willing to believe that he did not sleep that
night, for at nine o’clock Saturday night there was not a piece of meat nor a
morsel of bread in the house, and yet both had to be provided for the feast.

What to do for food for the next day’s feast? It wouldn’t do
to have so many gather to witness a ceremony as significant as an ordination
without being able to share a meal with the entire company.

It is sometimes amazing to witness the inventiveness of
those skilled in ministering in such challenging conditions.

Above right: Still-life with Figs, oil on canvas by Luis Egidio Melendez; via Wikipedia; in the public domain.

About Me

It is my contention that, after a lifetime, one of the greatest needs people have is to be remembered. They want to know: have I made a difference?
I write because I can't keep for myself the gifts others have entrusted to me. Through what I've already been given--though not forgetting those to whom I must pass this along--from family I receive my heritage; through family I leave a legacy. With family I weave a tapestry. These are my strands.